


Peace

by orphan_account



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen, Holding Hands, Mindless Fluff, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing meant "peace" to Doofenshmirtz more than watching the sunset with Perry warm against his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Horrible sappy Perryshmirtz fluff and little else. There's probably more prose here than there should be.

It's trite. It's the worst of clichés. It's one of those things that makes some people gag from sheer overuse.

Doofenshmirtz can't concern himself with the opinions of those people. The sunset is the most beautiful he has ever seen, and Perry is warm against his side. He has to concentrate on remembering every single detail of this evening that he can, because he is fairly certain that it will never happen again.

Their place in the park is perfect. It's known to Danville as the ideal place to watch meteor showers, but it works well for watching the sunset, too. From the sloping hilltop, one can see for miles. The skyscrapers look like toothpicks in the distance. Clouds hang low over the towers, misty and sparkly. Their powdery tops blend into the sky so Doofenshmirtz can't tell where the clouds end and the sky begins.

He inhales the crisp breeze that slips by. It smells of cut grass and pines and dogwood blossoms. How odd that the wind can carry with it such a delicious mixture of scents that are undetectable in the midst of the city. He vaguely wonders if Perry can smell the faint sweetness of the dogwood flowers.

Doofenshmirtz wants to say something. Asking Perry about the breeze seems acceptable, but no words come. He looks down apologetically. Perry gazes ahead, his eyes half-closed and glowing a brilliant gold in the last flaming beams of sunlight. The wispy tufts of fur lining his cheeks catch the yellow, too, and the reflections shimmer over every hair in soft waves and bands. His whiskers look like strands of pure light. The glare from them makes Doofenshmirtz squint.

He turns back to watch the sun. It reminds him of a jawbreaker that someone spat out into the clouds. It seems to swell ever closer as the minutes pass, yet it keeps sinking lower and lower. Somehow Doofenshmirtz feels as if the hill is rising and the sun remains still. The orange patches of light that filter through the treetops slowly fade.

"This is..." Doofenshmirtz pauses to think, to find the perfect word. He sifts through every adjective he knows. _Glorious. Amazing. Breathtaking._ None will suffice.

"Nice."

Perry tilts his head, cutting a sidelong glance at Doofenshmirtz. His eyes are now empty of the sun, back to the familiar milky brown that twinkles with flecks of silver-blue. Strangely, when Perry looks up, Doofenshmirtz can see drops of sunshine in his eyes. They burn like embers in pools of ash. Doofenshmirtz finds himself staring, captivated, before he realizes that Perry is frowning at him, one eyebrow quirked as if to say, "Look at what we came here to look at, if you don't mind."

Doofenshmirtz lifts his fist to his mouth to curb a cough. Mildly embarrassed, he settles himself more comfortably on the ground and wraps his arms around his legs, folding them against his chest. He shifts his attention to the horizon. The sun has dipped behind the skyline, topping the skyscrapers with crowns of blinding light. The crowns soon melt like red lava over the buildings before cooling into chalky shadows.

Twilight covers Danville. The trees rustle with twittering birds retiring for the day. A few bats straggle past, their scalloped wings beating the spicy pine wind. Doofenshmirtz wonders halfheartedly if they are agents spying on Perry. He decides he cares little about the possibility.

The crickets begin to stir. One pops into the air, its legs twisted, and lands on a sprig of blue grass just inches away. It begins to grate out a raspy chirp, and countless other crickets take the cue and add their voices to the mixture.

It gradually grows darker, and Doofenshmirtz's chest tightens with anxiety.

Part of him wishes he could sit with Perry on this hilltop forever. He wants to look down into the swirling mist, to feel Perry against his side, and to listen to Perry's quiet whuffs of breath. He loves how the cool grass prickles his skin, and how the breeze meanders past to tangle through his hair.

Still the other part of him only tolerates every second of this. He hates how he constantly holds his breath when Perry moves, fearing that he will disturb Perry from his trance-like state of tranquility. He hates how the chilly dew bites at his hands. He despises the hoarse shrill song of the crickets. Every minute, he promises himself that he will push Perry away and stand up while making the excuse that he must go home and tend his scheme for tomorrow.

He draws up his shoulders and glances at Perry. All he can see is the dented top of Perry's fedora, but he senses that Perry is content. Somehow, knowing that makes Doofenshmirtz relax. He leans back, pressing his hands into the cold grass.

As he slides back, his hand touches something, and he snaps it back. He and Perry look down simultaneously. Perry's paw is only a hairsbreadth from Doofenshmirtz's hand.

Slowly, as if not to startle Perry, Doofenshmirtz smooths his hand back over the grass, and closes his fingers around Perry's paw. Perry watches sleepily. Doofenshmirtz gently moves their entwined hands between them, and every so often strokes his thumb over the ridge of Perry's knuckles.

The soothing touch makes Perry's eyes turn foggier. He thinks distantly of his boys at home and how they pet him in much the same way. He turns to the front again, noticing that the stars are growing brighter, blinking like shards of broken glass stuck in the clouds.

Doofenshmirtz keeps his hand on top of Perry's paw. Idly he circles his fingertip over the points of Perry's blunt claws. He nudges his bony finger between Perry's short tiny ones, feeling of the thin web that stretches between them. Any other time Perry would have tired of this uninvited prodding, but tonight, he would allow it. Only tonight.

A tightness buzzes in Perry's head. He curves his back and opens his mouth in a gaping yawn. His tongue curls against his teeth before they click together as Perry lets his chin drop against his chest. His eyes close and his whiskers droop.

Doofenshmirtz scoots closer. "Are you tired, Perry the Platypus?"

Perry rouses. He looks up and tries to smile, but finds that he cannot. The sounds of dusk are lulling him to sleep. With a quiet sigh that lifts his chest, Perry leans over to rest his soft cheek against Doofenshmirtz's arm.

Doofenshmirtz blinks with surprise. His heart flutters at this silent display of trust, but he stiffens to keep from jostling Perry. Warmth fills him to the point of laughter, but it comes out as uneven puffs of breath. Perry languidly moves his free arm to slip it around Doofenshmirtz's, curling his fingers around Doofenshmirtz's elbow to pillow his cheek there.

Now comfortable, he sighs again.

"All right, Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz says in a murmur. He reclines as far as he can without shaking Perry, and stares up at the sky. The moon has appeared, thin as the edge of a nickel. A chill snakes through the empty park, but Doofenshmirtz is unaware of it. All he feels is Perry; his prickly whiskers, his soft paws, his warm little sighs against his arm.

 _Funny that something so vicious every other day can be so innocent-looking._ Doofenshmirtz is stricken by the urge itching in his fingers to pet Perry, but knows how degrading that would be. _He reminds me of a kitten._

Twice more he discovers himself reaching down to stroke Perry's side, to find out if the sleek blue coat that gleams like velvet and ripples in the breeze really feels as smooth as it looks. Each time he stops himself, and finally tucks his hand beneath his foot.

Part of him still wishes they could sit like this forever. It's a larger part of him, now.


End file.
